I'm Coming Home
by Highfunctioning Hufflepuff
Summary: Tribute fic to Blossomwitch's Hold You High.   What happens to warriors when there's nothing left to fight for?


_There is pain. An aching loneliness that penetrates everything. He doesn't know what to call it, and he doesn't know when it started. This... longing for things thus far unacknowledged. _

_Unacknowledged, because to recognize would be to make real, and he is not a man accustomed to weakness._

_'To ignore weakness _is _weakness.' his mind whispers._

_He ignores that as well._

_There is a memory. A phantom scene where warriors stand. Their backs are straight with pride. He remembers courage. Defiance and sacrifice. He remembers what it was to trust, to fear, to watch honor run red from the wounds of those he swore he would never respect._

_He remembers the feeling of 'together' and realizes that there is one, in particular, whom he longs for. He finds himself slipping into routines that are not his own, his subconscious attempting to breathe life, breathe substance, into memories and make them real. As if __he can somehow make another exist for him in this world by simply pretending to be them. _

_What a pity it never works._

_There is a photograph. Taunting him, teasing him. Making him yearn for things that he knows he will never deserve. He has never had a home, or, not one that he recognized as such; but now, as he looks upon the haunting (comforting?) images of faces from a not-quite-past life, and his mind resurrects the voices that belong to them, he can attach no other name to the enigma. What is happening to him? Where has all of his once-prided stoicism gone? _

_...Does it matter?_

"No."

_Because there is loneliness. An unrelenting ache that hollows everything. He doesn't know what to call it, and he doesn't know when it started. _

Lids fringed by heavy black lashes slide down to veil glittering ruby eyes, mouth curving gently in false amusement at the sound of his own lie.

_It started the moment I left._

* * *

><p>Three rings, one click, and his sister's voice tumbles brokenly from the answering machine.<p>

"Kazuma... Kazuma, I know you're there... Please, just pick up the phone. I don't know what's going on, but I'm worried abou..."

The words are slowly lost to silence as Kuwabara makes his way outside to sit on the steps. Around him the leaves are changing and falling in the American autumn, and the sun is setting in the warm golden hues that signal the passing of summer.

It is beautiful, in it's own way, but the leaves make Kuwabara long for cherry blossoms. For soft shades of white and pink rather than loud reds and yellows.

In twenty-seven hours it will have been eight years to the day since he left Japan. A span of time that feels so long, he's nearly forgotten why he left.

It doesn't take him long to remember.

Everyone else left first.

Naturally, Hiei had been the beginning. Kuwabara had watched with deep resignation as the fire demon swore himself finished with the human world forever. Then with sorrow as Kurama consequently began to fade away from their tight-knit group. After that he'd said good-bye to Yusuke, his best friend, and watched as he too vanished into a world where Kuwabara couldn't follow.

The first thing he'd felt was rejection.

Surely Kuwabara hadn't been the only one to picture them, together, laughing and joking and enjoying the peace they had fought so hard for. Surely he wasn't the only one who'd imagined them growing older, living and loving and learning, all _together. _

Had he misunderstood somehow? Had he been the only one to feel the bond, the web that they'd woven around themselves through hard battles and long nights and the bitter taste of grief? Had he been the only one to _know _that after all they had been through together, the four of them couldn't not _be_?

Maybe he had.

"_Welcome to the world, Baby Brother."_ Shizuru had said, when he told her. She'd taken a drag from her cigarette and stared pensively at the sleek black lighter in her hand.

"_Now you're growing up."_

And so he'd left, too. The battles were over and the wounds were healing. His life as a Spirit Detective was finished. What use was there in clinging to that existence when the others had given it up so easily? His only choice had been to move on. Even if that meant leaving behind the memories of the things that he'd loved most.

The others were gone, after all. Off to live their separate lives in peace. It was high time that he do the same.

It hadn't taken him long to realize that there was no separate peace.

After that, living in America had simply been a way to pass the time.

But now, _now_ he is going back. If his sister could see him she might be proud to know that he possesses more of her psychic abilities than they thought. He can feel the call, like gentle fingers tugging a string tied to his soul. He feels it and knows that it's now or never.

This chance is the last train home.

Sighing, Kuwabara bends down to pick up his bags, then straightens again and strides away from his American home with the certainty of one who is either on the brink of rebirth or destruction.

He smiles slightly to himself.

For once, he knows what the others won't until they get there.

He only hopes that they know where they're going.

* * *

><p><em>The days all blend together here.<em>

The thought is cliche, and he hates it as soon as he thinks it. But it's true. He's been walking for so long that it feels like the only thing he's ever done. But when he tries to recall the things that he's seen, the demons he's met, he remembers nothing save for blurs of desert and dark sky.

_I don't even know where I'm going._

And that's true, too. But it's okay, because it's been true for a long time. He thinks about his mother and Keiko and the life he could have had and wonders if there was ever a time where he did know.

_Probably not._

But there'd been a time where hethoughthe knew. He was so– fuck, he'd been so _certain. _About Keiko. About life. About everything. But there's something to be said for battles and danger and the blood of a demon flowing through your veins. They change you, and suddenly the things that you wanted are... _less _somehow.

No, that's not right. The things you wanted aren't any less, it's that _you're _mor–

_Fuck. That's not it either. _

It's that _they're_ the same, and _you're _different, and nothing feels the way that it _should_ anymore.

Why can't everything be as he imagined it? There are no more battles, no more villains. There's no more danger and no more responsibility hanging heavy over his head. The worlds are at _peace _now. So why isn't he?

He was a hero, once, and in all the movies the hero gets the girl. Then, he and his friends walk into the sunset and live happily ever-after.

Friends...

Kuwabara. Kurama. Hiei.

Where are they? What are they doing? He hasn't seen them in so long that he had forgotten what it felt like to have them, but he remembers now. The memories make his chest clench and his eyes sting dryly. He hopes that they are faring better than he is. And surely they are. Surely they each found some semblance of.. _something _after they left. Wholeness. Completeness. Whatever the hell it is that's supposed to make a person happy. They deserved it.

After all, they were heroes, too.

Yusuke's foot catches on a rock and he stumbles, pitching himself sideways onto the ground. With a muffled curse, he rolls over, panting, to lie on his back. Above him, the stars twinkle like an unreadable map to nowhere.

"I don't know where the Hell I am anymore." But even as he says the words, an inexplicable sense of something like purpose settles over him. He feels a tiny smirk of a grin beginning to form and it's as natural as if he'd never forgotten how to smile.

_Never had much of a taste for sulking._

No, he doesn't know where he's going, but that's okay. Because the stars are still glittering above him like so many mile markers and nowhere is just fine when you've got nowhere to go in the first place.

* * *

><p>"Shuuichi! Shuuichi, baby, wake up. Wake up."<p>

Kurama jerks awake at the sound of his mother's voice, the feel of her shaking his shoulders. His eyes are wide and frantic for a long moment before the reality of his surroundings snaps back into place and erases the last vestiges of his nightmare. He sits up slowly and Shiori lets her hands move gently from his shoulders to smooth through the soft hair at the base of his neck.

"Shuuichi, you were crying out again. "

"I'm so sorry, Mother, I– "

"No apologies. This has to _stop, _Shuuichi. Not a single night passes where you don't wake screaming. And it's not just the nightmares, either. There's so much _missing_ in you now." The words come out soft and sad. Heavy.

"Mother, I don't mean to–"

"I know, baby." She places a consoling hand on his arm. "Did you know, when you were younger I always wished that one day you would trust me enough to tell me about all of those secrets you kept. And now..."

"There are no more secrets now, Mother."

Shiori's hands stroke the sweat-damp hair from his eyes.

"Shuuichi, your pain wounds me so much more deeply than your secrets. Don't you know that?"

Her fingers brush the tight lines around his eyes.

"Whatever they were, those secrets were a part of you. They're gone now. I'd do anything to have them back."

For a moment Kurama considers not saying anything, but he's so _tired. _Of loneliness and misery and hopelessness. What does it matter if she knows? He rubs slow circles into his temple with his thumb.

"It's not the secrets that I'm missing, Mother. It's the people I shared them with."

He pauses

" They are... beyond me now."

"What does that mean, 'beyond you'?"

He shrugs."They've all moved on. I haven't. There were... things I wouldn't let go of. They've all built lives of their own now. I can't intrude on that."

Kurama goes to his window and Shiori follows. The sky outside is just beginning to turn grey with dawn.

"What makes you think that you're presence would be an intrusion?"

If Kurama smiles at her question, the expression is a small, grieving thing that doesn't reach his eyes.

"They've all found what they were looking for. Seeking contact with them now would only give rise to memories they would rather forget. I won't interfere. Not when they've worked so hard for this."

"But–"

"They deserve their peace, Mother."

Shiori looks at him, eyes as old and wise as anything he's ever seen, with the kind of sadness and warmth that makes something inside of him ache. She touches his face gently, fingertips on his cheek, then lets her hand drop.

"Oh, _Shuuichi. _My beautiful boy. So intelligent. So kind. Those eyes that see everything. With eyes like that, how can you always be missing the most important thing?

He watches numbly as she throws open the window and turns on her heel to leave the room. She pauses at the door, looks back, says something. Her sad eyes light on Kurama's once more, and he's out the open window before the words have even stopped ringing. Even so, they follow him as he walks into the dawn. Over and over, a soothing mantra in his mother's voice to guide him to wherever it is that he's going.

"_You deserve peace, too."_

* * *

><p>In the end, it's Kurama who gets there first.<p>

'There' is an old, slightly dilapidated park on the outskirts of the city. He doesn't recall having ever been there before.

Kuwabara approaches, bags still in hand. His eyes fall immediately to Kurama, standing in the shadow of a large cherry tree. The fox demon looks up, his expression clouding with confusion as though he doesn't quite understand what he's seeing.

Kuwabara suppresses the urge to grin, intending to give his best manly nod instead, but before he's able, Kurama's eyes go wide and his head jerks around so quickly that Kuwabara wonders if he might have pulled something. The redhead turns his body slowly, deliberately, to face whatever caught his attention. The new angle allows Kuwabara to see as well.

Hiei is standing behind Kurama, sword in hand, the tip of the blade pressed lightly against the skin of the redhead's exposed throat.

"Getting sloppy, Fox."

"Hiei." Kurama's voice is quiet. Controlled in the way that Kuwabara has come to associate with strain.

"Kurama." And if the look passing between them becomes less challenging and more questioning, Kuwabara pretends not to notice.

Hiei nods, Kurama smiles, and the fire demon's sword returns to its sheath. Kuwabara takes the brief silence as permission to speak.

"Shrimp! Mukuro still help you reach the stuff on the top shelf?"

"Hn. Fool. Play with any yo-yo's lately?"

Kuwabara looks as though he might respond when both Hiei's and Kurama's attention shifts to the distance. Kuwabara follows their gazes and watches the horizon with unflinching eyes.

His hair is the first thing they see; black as midnight and gelled in its typical fashion. Yusuke crests the last hill and stands with the sun rising pink and orange at his back. He lets his eyes adjust to the sudden darkness of his own silhouette and tries to make sense of the group of people he sees gathered at the bottom of the clearing.

"The Hell–?"

At the sound of Yusuke's voice, Kuwabara _does _grin. He snaps off a cheeky little wave. "Urameshi!"

Yusuke's eyes widen. "Kuwabara...?"

And then he's running, legs carrying him down the hill so quickly that when he trips, he's unable to right himself. So he rolls, end over end over end until he stops in a tangled, laughing heap at the bottom. And Kuwabara's there, pulling him up by the hand and patting him on the back while he struggles to right himself. Then Kurama and Hiei are there, too. The redhead chuckling softly while the fire demon smirks beside him.

"Took you long enough, Detective." The words are clipped but lack Hiei's usual venom.

"Didn't know we were planning a reunion. The Hell are you guys doing here, anyway?"

"As the first one here, I should be asking you that, Yusuke." Kurama's voice is colored with humor. "I'm beginning to think that all of you followed me."

"Don't flatter yourself, Fox." Hiei chides. "You're not that pretty."

Kurama opens his mouth to respond and the three of them, Yusuke, Kurama, and Hiei, begin to debate the possible reasons for all four former spirit detectives ending up in such a random place at the same time. Kuwabara watches."This is how it's supposed to be." He says. "You just didn't know it 'till now."

Yusuke glances in his direction. "Kuwabara, you say something?"

"Me? Nah."

Yusuke looks less than convinced. "Hey... Everything alright?"

Kuwabara smiles. "Yeah. Everything's fine."

And it was.

**A/N: **Oh, this has been an absolute _beast _to write. I intended to have it posted weeks ago, but real life happened and... yeah. Thanks to all the people who helped make it happen. Alex and Mika especially. LOVES.


End file.
